Blank
by Gambitlover21
Summary: This is a little surreal, and something different than your average SPN story I hope. Try this if you like angst and Dean and Sam.
1. Chapter 1

Ok, I just read this book called Pedro Paramo. Very surreal, and odd. I kinda liked it and it inspired me. Please read this with an open mind. There's only wincest if you look for it. I don't own Supernatural, sadly. Also, I recently EDITED this chapter. YAY!

I don't own anyone in this story, sadly.

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Sam started awake, eyes wide, hands clutching the cheap motel sheets with a white-knuckled grip.

'What?' he thought. The dream, which had woken him, slipped through the tenuous hold the younger man's mind had on it. Sam Winchester always remembered his dreams, pleasant or not. This…empty… dream had left a curious blank. From nearly all of his dreams, Sam was always left with…something.

A feeling, a need, a want – guilt, from his nightmares…Jess and Mom floated behind his eyes and Sam shook his head, dispersing the images…a hunger to see, to really look at what he could only seen in his head, the visions, prophecies, foretellings…the desires, to have that warmth that he had rarely felt in his life, just being around HIM made the cold recede, if only to taste that forbidden fruit…

Scrubbing his eyes with the backs of his palms, he mentally cursed. Sam was wide awake and it was, glancing at the clock, 3:52 AM. Great. Another sleepless night with only his thoughts to keep him company. And they weren't much fun.

Shifting his head, Sam could see the outline of HIS form on the other twin bed in the yellow bars of light. HE was illuminated slightly, as HE was nearest to the window, yellow mixing with grey to form a kind of light nothingness.

Sam desperately wanted to wake HIM up, if nothing but for the soothing banter, the teasing that he knew would result. Maybe there would even be a thrown pillow. Sam knew that HE was sore and tired from the day's hunt and waking HIM would just be selfish, and it wasn't that bad...

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Dean quietly opened his eyes, murky brownish-grey-green eyes slowly adjusting to the dim motel room. HE was awake.

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Sam missed the days of his youth. Those dreams, those frustrating, frightening, confusing dreams, when they came, left...quickly. HE drove them away, great flaming sword held in HIS right hand, shining yellow-grey armor glinting. The left hand held Sam's, clutched tightly, warm and strong. Curled together, Sam was covered and shielded by HIM, entwined, two parts of one whole.

Then, there were no…blanks…

He hated them! Sam hated them. They made him think, wonder, guess. And for what? Insomnia and grouchy days, grumbling and snarling at the only one, HIM, who could make it all go away. Sam could just go over there, but then HE might get angry, push him away.

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"Nightmare, Sammy? Cuz if you're up, and keepin' me up for nothing, I'll be pissed."

"How'd you know I was awake?"

"Dude, can you answer the freakin' question? I'm tired."

"Jerk. Umm, but yeah, it was a dream...I'm not sure what it was about. It woke me up though."

"Oh really? I wasn't sure if you were awake. Coulda sworn you were passed out during this little chat."

"Dean…"

"Sammy, move over."

"Wha…Dean, this is a twin bed!"

"If it can hold your fat ass, it sure as hell can hold mine. Now move!"

"Err… thanks, Dean. I, uhh-"

"Can it, college boy."

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Dean shifted. He could feel HIS heartbeat. HIS even and steady breath. Finally. HE was asleep.

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As Sam drifted into the peaceful world of protected sleep, yellow grey light covered both the brothers, illuminating them in a brief glimmer of brilliance.

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Hope you liked! Review please!

Guys, it ain't really wincest, just as an FYI. Also, I feel the need to explain a bit about this. My Lit class in school is very into finding meaning in every little thing written. I suck at writing, but I was going for some kind of effect. Not really sure what that effect is, though. Sam's inner workings were more disjointed and rambling, but very intelligent. Dean's were rather short and to the point. There will be more Dean thoughts next chapter (he was tired in this chapter, give him some credit!). YAY!


	2. Chapter 2

So this chapter is before Devil's Trap, but that's all I really know. I may be upping the rating next chapter (still not Wincest). Oh, and these ' ' mean thoughts. I really don't have all that much more to say 'cept SUPERNATURAL ain't mine. Damn. Ah well, I'll make it.

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Sometimes Dean saw HIM as Robin. Others, HE was Spider-Man. But whatever HE was, he was always a superhero in Dean's book, whether sidekick or solo hero, and however reluctant. Because SAMMY was bigger than everything to Dean. HE was Dean's world. 

'How could you have just left me, Sammy?' Dean couldn't remember the times that he had wanted to yell that in HIS face. God, he just wanted to break things and throw tantrums and have things his own way for once. But that wasn't Dean.

'You left, Sammy. Dad took it harder than he'd like anyone to think. Then he left too. So where does that leave me? Alone, dammit.' Dean glances at HIS face, which happens to be intently studying the endless rows of wheat outside the car window. HE doesn't like sleeping in the car, no matter how much HE needed it.

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Another vision, another battle with a migraine. HE gave Sam a couple of aspirin and a squeeze on the shoulder, coupled with an intense look of worry. Dreamless sleep would be amazing, but HE'S trying to drive as fast as HE can to get to the source of Sam's vision.

Somehow, Sam feels that he should be more concerned about these new powers, these new abilities. It's hard to feel worried about himself when HE'S near, though. Sleep wasn't the only thing that HE protected him from. Sometimes, Sam forgot that. He had forgotten that love that HE had for him, Sam mused, while he was at Stanford. Sam regularly forgot it during the day, only reminded from a concerned glance, a grunt or a grimace... that HE is there... to just as quickly forget it when he starts a job, or thinks of Jess.

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Dean never forgot. He knew SAMMY'S favorite food, his favorite smells, books, shows...everything that he could to help HIM.

'Jesus, Sammy, if anybody saw just how broken and fucked up I am on the inside, they'd wonder how I hold it together.And you know what I'd tell them? It's you, Sammy, you and Dad that give me purpose. Both of you are my whole reason for being. I've given up everything for you.'

Cranking up the volume on the cassette player, SAMMY glanced at Dean, one eyebrow slightly raised. Dean returned the glance with a smirk. Although HE had complained very vocally the first few days, he knew that HE didn't mind the music anymore. The music and the Impala had become a small, private world that the brothers shared. It harbored the fights, the dreaded chick flick moments and the practical jokes that made up their lives. Each hotel room, no matter how crappy or how deluxe, had a sense of home. After all, everyone knows home is where the heart is, and Dean's heart was located right next to HIS.

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"I have got to piss like a freakin' racehorse!"

"Dean, that was really not something I needed to know."

"Dude, I changed enough of your diapers that I have a right to let you know when I've got to pee."

"You are hubristic. And annoying."

"Wow, Sammy, that was a HUGE word. My poor little uneducated brain..."

"My point has been proven. You are annoying."

"Sorry to disappoint you, little bro, but that's a pretty known fact. But I think you forgot the charming and sexy part."

"You! Charming? Dude, you're about as charming as a cardboard box."

"Look, man, just because I don't have huge puppy dog eyes...hey, you think I'm sexy!"

"Oh yes, Dean, a total bombshell. How have you not noticed my complete lust for you?"

"I don't blame ya, Sammy. With these looks, nobody's immune."

"Don't call me that."

"Owww! Why'd you hit me? You never hit the driver! I control whether you make it to see tommorow."

"Like you'd wreck your car?"

"True. The stuff inside's pretty important too."

"Yeah, Dean, heaven forbid you lose these tapes, or the stuff in the trunk."

"Or you."

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'You ask me what I've given up for you and Dad? I became a father and a hunter at the age of four. No, let me rephrase that. I became a dad, mom, babysitter, trainer and hunter at the age of four. I haven't had a real friend outside the family in my entire life. No real relationships either, besides Cassie, and I gave her up too. I don't have a real job, I don't have a house. I have my weapons. I have the Impala. I have Dad, and I have YOU! That's it, Sammy-boy."

These thoughts only come to Dean when he drives. But he would never want HIM to hear these things. First off, Dean doesn't voice his inner thoughts. That was HIS job. Dean protected, and whining was not a part of that job description. Secondly, SAM needed that like HE needed a hole in the head. The last thing that Dean would want to do is hurt HIM more. There were so many broken pieces of SAMMY that he was trying to put back together. That was tough enough as it was.

'But you know what the strangest part of this whole situation is, Sammy? I wouldn't take back what I've given for the world.'

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Wow, that took me forever. My dialogue bit went on for too long. I also don't really think I got Dean...too whiney, but I tried to redeem myself at the end. Ah well. Also, only one of Sam's thoughts...he just ain't coming to me tonight. Next chapter - look for (maybe) plot! This will all get tied together, hopefully. 


	3. Chapter 3

Next chapter with a new rating - M! Nothing too hardcore, but better safe than sorry. Also, got a feeling that this chapter may be a little more, well, like a story, you know, with plot...but only a little bit. Saw the Omen today, which may influence the story a bit. I have got to say, that movie would have been waaay better if Sam and Dean had showed up to salt and burn with their usual finesse.

Oh yes, obviously, I don't own the boys, either.

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"So, you're sayin' that you just got a bunch of flashes of the four people that died, right? No evidence of anything supernatural?"

"Yeah, I mean, the visions were pretty straightfoward. Two women, two men, dying of what seemed liked natural causes," Sam said with a slightly defeated sounding sigh. God, or whoever it was that decided the grand scheme of things, must really enjoy frustrating him. A lot. The visions give him just enough to know what the people look like, exactly where they are, but hardly ever gave him a chance to save them.

Dean flipped through the newspaper that was resting on the well used diner table. "Your headache better?"

"Yeah, it's ok. I have a feeling it's not over, though."

Dean's concerned gaze was diverted by the appearance of a young, busty blonde waitress. Sam watched as his brother's face was transformed. His characteristic smirk slid into place, eyes becoming inviting. He even leaned foward slightly, looking like he had just spotted the most beautiful woman in the world. It was like this for anyone even remotely attractive.

"What can I get ya, darlin'?" The question was directed at Dean. While his brother and the waitress flirted, Sam's thoughts unwillingly slid to Jessica. He wished that he could just stop thinking of her. Guilt immediantely washed over him because part of him felt that she should always be on his mind, and never forgotten. The rational part of him knew that he would never forget Jess, the way her hair smelled, her smile, the birthmark on her shoulder... he needed to remember her in life. But the irrational part of him just kept bombarding him with scenes of her pinned to the ceiling, bleeding, burning, her eyes staring balefully into his. And it's all YOUR fault, the vengeful part of him would say, you're out here, trying to save all these people that you don't even know, and you couldn't even save HER, the girl that you wanted to MARRY!

"Uh, dude, hello? What do you want to eat?" Dean asked, waving a hand in front of Sam's face. Sam blinked.

"Sorry, could I get a burger and fries with a coke?"

"Sure thing, sugar. It'll be out in a sec." The waitress grinned at Dean and flaunted away. Dean stared at her backside, smirking.

Before he could make a comment about the blonde, Sam glanced at the paper in front of Dean and asked, "So, find anything in the obituaries?"

"Take a look at these pictures. They fit the description of the people in your vision, and guess what? Turns out they're married. Well, you know, not all four of them together, but there's a Sarah and Walter Grey and a Chris and Tina Guthrie. Apparently, Walter and Tina died from massive coronaries. Sarah suffered from a stroke, and Chris had a combination of diabetes and asthma. No foul play is suspected."

"Yeah, that's them. Isn't it odd though, that they all died apart from eachother, but they were married... I guess we'll just have to do the usual, check out their homes, find people that knew them... but other then those people dying on the same day, this seems kinda normal. They were older, mid-sixties to early seventies. And, in my vision, there was nothing even remotely out of the ordinary. They didn't even look that afraid. The Tina woman fainted straightaway." Sam rubbed his face tiredly.

"Coincidence is what we do, bro." Cockiness colored Dean's voice. Sam realized, despite the pain in his head, that his brother lived for these jobs. He had known it, really, ever since he was old enough to talk, that Dean enjoyed ridding the world of all the evil that could be salted, burned and exorcised. Saving people, acting the hero, filled Dean with such a light or purpose that he was made more... more or extra, like maybe Dean was just so full of Dean he would overflow and spread to others around him.

Sam's headache was getting worse, which signaled another vision. "Dean, I think I...argh!"

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"Sammy?" Dean knew right away what it was. 'Goddamn these visions!' He thought darkly, quickly rising from the plastic diner chair and taking Sam by the arm. "Let's get you outside, alright?" Damn whoever decided that Sam should get these things, whether it be God, Jesus or Mary. Maybe it was the Holy Ghost. Dean had never liked him. Who the hell was he supposed to be, anyways?

"Okay..." Sam groaned through clenched teeth.

Dean knew the pattern. They had rehearsed it enough times in the past few months. Sam let himself be led to the Impala's passenger seat, while Dean busied himself with getting a coldpack out of the cooler he had started to carry in the car. There's only so much aspirin, tylenol and advil that a man can take, so Dean looked for other pain relief alternatives. Sam gave one, pain filled gasp, and Dean knew the vision had begun.

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Flash

_A tiny little girl, no older than five, trembled in fear. A tall woman wearing lots of makeup stared down at the girl, her features contorted with rage. She held a large pair of gardening shears and a piece of raggedy fabric and was brandishing them furiously._

_"You think that this was bad! Next time, I won't just cut up your blanket, I'll cut you up into tiny little pieces, you ungrateful little brat. I never would have had to do this if you would just grow UP!" The woman screamed._

_The tiny girl was barely containing her fear. A small tear made it's way down her face and she shook uncontrollably. "My blankie..." she whispered, her heartbroken voice breaking._

_"That's IT! I can't stand it anymore. I won't have a stepdaughter who acts like a mentally challenged baby." Advancing on the girl with the shears in one hand, the tiny girl ran sobbing for the door... _

Flash

_"It's all your fucking fault, you fucking faggott! Do you realize all that I have to endure at work, with my friends because you just HAD to come out in front of everyone?" A large man screamed at a younger looking boy, maybe twelve or thirteen._

_"Dad, I just... please... there's someone I met and -" The boy was cut off by a large fist. Clutching at his bleeding nose and blinking back tears, the boy gave a stifled gasp._

_"You little slut, little fucking pervert. Maybe you should think about others besides yourself before you tell people that you like to fuck boys!" Each word was accompanied by a fist, or a foot. The boy, bleeding and bruised, barely even fought back against the furious rage..._

Flash

_The woman, no, girl, she couldn't have been more than fifteen, was slammed onto the floor in a crappy room. Greedy hands pulled at her jeans, while she beat at them frantically. The gag in her mouth prevented screams, but not the tears that ran down her face in hot, salty rivers. The jeans were removed, then the cheap underwear. The same greedy hands fumbled with his own belt, while pinning the girl to the ground with his legs. She continued to beat at him, but accomplished nothing._

_His thrusts were hard and violent. With everyone of the thrusts, her body lifted off the floor slightly, and she made a small whimpers through the gag. He ripped out chunks of her hair in a effort to keep the girl still. The girl's eyes were tightly shut, face scrunched in pain. The greedy man finished with a grunt, collapsing on top of the girl. She opened her eyes, tears spilling over the edges. He grinned, and pulling a knife, waved it in front of her face. The girls' eyes widened, and with jerky, terrified movements, tried to slid away, or get to her feet, anything. He watched for a moment, and smiling, walked toward her..._

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"Oh my God!" Sam cried out in a voice hardly more than a moan. Dean was at his side instantly.

"Here Sammy, take this. It'll help with the pain." They both knew it was a lie. Nothing helped with the pain right after a vision.

"Dean, I can't do it anymore. I see all these bad things, but I can't do anything about them. NOTHING! People who don't deserve it are tortured and die and I can't help. So why do I get these things? Maybe it's punishment. Maybe it's a test. But you know what? I'm gonna crack soon, I just can't take it, I just can't!" Sam forced the words out through the tears that he didn't remember crying.

Dean put his hands on Sam shoulders and trying to make eye contact, said, "No, you're not gonna break, Sammy, not while I'm around. You're stronger than that. It's just a rough spot, we'll get through, we'll learn to control them."

The words are said with such honesty that Sam can't help but look at him. "We?" He said weakly.

"Since when could you do anything without my help, Sammy?"

"Well, I did make it through college..." He's trying for the banter. It helps Sam to become distracted, to forget that he's just witnessed three deaths and can only put an icepack to his forehead. The pain's slowly receding and they continue with the mock insults that only hide the pain that each brother feels.

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Wow, ok, first of all, everybody needs to go on over to and check out the KTLA interveiw with Jensen Ackles. He really seems funny, but serious too. Sigh. Also, there is a UK promo for the show that, at the end, says "Supernatural just got sexy" Damn right. It's really lovely. And reveiw! Hope you liked... 


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